


Dance around in your smoke (and flicker out)

by orphan_account



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Depressed Sasuke, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, This is a rambling fuckin mess and I'm not sorry about it at all, by the buckets, mentions of suicidal ideation and actions, pretty boy, uke SasUKE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:08:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ft. Sasuke, the new kid who clearly has it together and doesn't need shit from anyone.<br/>Especially Naruto.</p><p>(Naruto isn't smart, but he knows a lie when he sees it)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song 'Slip' by Elliot Moss

There’s a new boy in Kakashi’s class, Monday morning. It’s a strange Monday on many fronts; Naruto actually managed to drag himself to his first class. Psychology is the only nonrequired class class he bothered to take, and only because the teacher is also his soccer coach. If Naruto wasn’t failing, he probably wouldn’t show up on Mondays at all, but he’ll be damned if he sits through a year of class without credits. He’s glad he picked today to show up, though, because from the commotion at the front of the room, it looks like it might be interesting.

A kind of hush falls over the room as the new student glides in. Konaha is a small town, and new people are a rarity in general, something that garners far more attention than it probably should. This new kid is, however, undeniably good looking. He’s impossibly pale, made all the more evident by the juxtaposition of messy black hair and doe eyes. He’s thin and wiry, dressed in mostly black as well, his school blazer hanging off of him just a bit too loosely. He looks delicate, and if he wasn’t a boy, Naruto wouldn’t hesitate to use the word pretty. Kakashi beckons him to the front of the room. “This is Uchiha Sasuke,” he announces. “He just recently moved to Konaha. Let’s all try to welcome him. Would you like to introduce yourself?”

Elegant fingers fidget with his shirt hem. The nervous tick is the only exterior sign, however, that new student is anything but impassive. “I don’t have much to say,” He finally responds. There’s a stretched moment of silence before Kakashi realizes he isn’t going to elaborate. The teacher nods and moves to pat Sasuke on the back, but the boy dodges the hand and makes his way back to a seat near the back, directly in front of Naruto’s. As he passes, the girls in the class quiet, only to resume fervent whispering when they think he’s out of earshot. Naruto suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. Diva.

Still, he finds himself actually attending class for the rest of the week.

~

Sasuke is always in the library during lunch. Not that Naruto goes looking for him or anything, obviously, but whenever he happens in, the boy is curled up in a window seat. Sometimes he’s doing homework, like the nerd he is, sometimes just reading a book. It kind of bothers Naruto in the periphery of his mind that the boy never comes out and tries to make friends. Since his arrival, Sasuke has yet to interact at length with the rest of the student body. Just a week ago, Ino had approached him and invited him to a party that weekend. Ino’s parties were not something to be taken lightly; if you made it through the doors, you were in the upper echelon of Konaha by default. Sasuke just shook his head, not even bothering with an audible reaction. The gossip mill nearly collapsed from strain. To add to that, Sasuke has moved in with enough credits and high scores to be top of his class, to the chagrin of Sakura, whose fixation with his looks was immediately curtailed by her academic competitiveness. He shrinks into his clothes, eyes behind his bangs and tilted down. He still looks commanding, somehow. At any rate, he’s still the reluctant center of attention to many.

Sasuke has plenty of fans, sure, but he doesn’t seem to have held prolonged conversation with anyone since he arrived a month or so ago. Naruto may not be the biggest socialite in Konaha, but he doesn’t like to see people alone. And Sasuke always looks sad, like he’s really trying not to, but the dark discoloration around his eyes gives him away.

So one day, Naruto ambles over and plops himself down in the armchair across. After a minute, Sasuke looks up and raises a delicate eyebrow. The chill of autumn is setting in, and the boy is in an oversized sweater that dips around his neck, exposing a collarbone. He’s the color of cream, framed in a mess of blue black hair that always sticks up in the back. Naruto isn’t quite sure why but he wants to grab the boy by his tiny wrists and crush him to his chest, tuck him tightly into bed, make him a mug of tea. Of course, the whole image is kind of destroyed when Sasuke glares at him, his eyes no longer looking quite so doe-ish.

“Why are you bothering me?” he asks, and Naruto starts a bit. It isn’t as passive as he had figured the boy would be, considering that he had seemed to do everything in his power to avoid attention before. “I just wanted to find a good spot to read,” he replies defensively. “Where’s your book?” Sasuke retorts. Naruto grins sheepishly. “Well, you just seemed really… alone in here, and I wondered if you had any recommendations…”

Sasuke’s knuckles are snow white, from the way that they’ve tightened on the novel in his hands. “I’m fine, thanks.” Naruto frowns, but the boy has already gone back to his book, pretending that he is alone again. With a little sigh, Naruto stands and leaves the library to find his friends. He tried, at least.

Sasuke seems relieved when he stands up, but Naruto doesn’t let it bother him. Not walking home, not lying in bed and wondering why a boy like that could seem so nervous. He ditches Psych the next day and catches up on missed sleep.

~

Itachi gets home late that night, around 9 pm. Sasuke has already retired to his room, curled up and finishing the last few pages of his book. There’s a soft knock on his door, and his brother waits for him to respond before coming in. Sasuke has always appreciated that, though he knows it’s his brother’s way of compensating for previous invasions of space. That thought makes him ill.

“Sorry, I had to stay late. We had an emergency.” Sasuke just nods, peering up at the face so similar to his own. “Did you fix yourself dinner?” Itachi asks, and is answered with another dip of the head. Sasuke got a bowl of cereal earlier, at least.

There’s an uncomfortable pause; neither are naturally talkative, and since Sasuke more or less gave up on contributing to conversation six months ago, Itachi has had to learn to compensate. Finally, he goes to sit on the edge of his little brother’s bed uncomfortably. “Did you have an okay day?” Sasuke hesitates before finally opening his mouth. “Somewhat.” Itachi arches an eyebrow, but is met only with a shrug. With a sigh (too much signing, Sasuke thinks, for one day) he stands and turns. “Goodnight.”

With that, he turns to leave. Sasuke’s shoulders relax marginally, a fact that makes Itachi’s stomach twist with a pang of guilt. Still, he forces himself to leave. He won’t push things on his brother. Itachi won’t make his brother do anything.

It’s the things Sasuke was forced to do that made everything go to hell in the first place.


	2. Chapter 2

Sasuke’s alarm goes off at 6:45 each morning. He’s considered not setting it, because it hasn’t once actually gotten him up. On the contrary, he takes it as a cue to burrow down further into his blankets and screw his eyes shut. He never falls back asleep, just counts his breaths and waits. Inevitably, Itachi comes in around 7:05 and gently shakes his shoulder. The two brothers have a clock work routine; interdependent rotations bracing to cross one another and then hurriedly moving on. Tentative.

It’s been years since Sasuke and his brother were close, and pretending to be now feels foreign and heavy. Itachi is, admittedly, better at the façade; unsurprising really, what hasn’t he been better at? Still, Sasuke knows that his brother is just as uncomfortable as him, perhaps even more so, and that the only way they’re going to coexist is with plenty of personal space. By 7:08, Sasuke has usually dragged himself up and into the shower.

He takes two showers a day, most days: one in the morning, and one at night. Sasuke doesn’t ever take baths, doesn’t feel relaxed by the idea of immersing himself in a suffocating substance and trying not to drown for twenty minutes at a time. He turns the water to its highest temperature, until it stings his skin a bit. He’s in and out in ten minutes, then dressed, then out the door with an apple by 7:30.

Itachi has offered to drive him to and from school before, but the walk is only ten minutes and Sasuke likes the freedom. He seldom passes anyone other than the neighbor’s cat, a fat pompous thing that will occasionally rub at his ankles.

He walks to school and wait outside until the bell to go to class rings. If he wanted to, he could head inside early and wait in class, but he prefers to wait until the class has a few other people in it. Kakashi is always late, so it’s unlikely that Sasuke would end up alone with the man.

Students trickle in lazily. A few still shoot him curious or even infatuated glances, but for the most part, his solitude has become routine. After actively working to appear as antisocial as possible, most students have gotten the hint. Sasuke cannot express how relieving that is. School is a hard enough environment to be around. He doesn’t need the constant groping hands of a bunch of nosy students trying to nitpick the new kid. He’s taken to leaving his bangs in his eyes and developed an inverted posture (a slouch, Itachi says, but what does he know). It isn’t logical to hope that people just don’t see him, but that doesn’t stop Sasuke from trying. A moment before the bell rings, as though on cue, Naruto comes stumbling in laughing loudly and punching his friend’s arm, babbling on excitedly about a TV show. Sasuke’s eye twitches.

Naruto is this obnoxiously loud kid, and Sasuke doesn’t particularly like him. He’s always decked head to toe in bright orange, with overflowing blonde hair and wild blue eyes. He sits in behind Sasuke and makes a ruckus throughout class. When the teacher asks a question, he yells the answer. When they do silent work, he mumbles to himself. During free time, he’s always somehow the center of attention; chattering at anyone within earshot, pulling some ridiculous stunt, or getting disciplined by his teacher. This would all be forgivable, but he’s completely oblivious to Sasuke’s unsubtle attempts to be left alone. Naruto always has a lunch invitation, or a comment about Sasuke’s big sweaters, or he even makes an attempt at copying Sasuke’s homework. It shouldn’t take this much energy to ward people away; Sasuke is half considering stopping brushing his teeth or something, just to put everyone off. Naruto is a couple of inches taller than Sasuke, and broader in the shoulders. He has a tendency to stand too close or to lean over while the smaller boy is seated. In those moments, Sasuke wants nothing more than to get up and leave the classroom, to push his forced acquaintance away and change schedules. It’s ridiculous, of course. Naruto is like an overexcited dog. He exudes nothing but good intentions. Still, Sasuke has learned to be wary of good intentions. Good intentions have him moved across the country.

 

It’s raining this morning, and Sasuke is hunched up on the front steps, waiting for the bell to ring. He has twenty more minutes until class starts. He shivers and curses whatever compelled him to step outside in a thin sweater and jeans, to forgo an umbrella in hopes that the downpour would wait until later. He had been desperate to get out of the house that morning, but he’s freezing now as a consequence. The wind keeps the small ledge in front of the door from being particularly effective, but it’s the best bet he has for shelter.

Kakashi stares down from his classroom window, the outline of a frown visible through his mask. The new kid is going to freeze. As the boy’s academic adviser, he’s privy to the circumstances that forced Sasuke to move.  He can understand why sitting alone in class with a male teacher would be… rather unappealing. Still, something has to be done; the kid gives off the concerning air that a bit of downpour might just wash him away. With a sigh, the teacher makes his way down the hall, pausing to grab a towel out of the janitor’s closet.

Sasuke starts and stumbles back when the front door to the school swings open. Standing in front of him is Kakashi, the psych teacher, gesturing for the boy to come in. Sasuke stares back, gauging. Kakashi has been nothing but formal; detached, if anything. It doesn’t stop the churning in his gut, the urge to take a few steps back. This is a new school, he reminds himself. He steps inside, and Kakashi holds out the towel at arm’s length. Their fingers don’t even brush. “I’m busy,” Kakashi says, “But you can go sit in the art room. The teacher usually lets a few students in before class, so you won’t be bothering her.” _So you won’t be alone with her,_ and Sasuke almost feels like he should thank his teacher for that, though he feels a bit guilty for it being an issue in the first place.He nods and follows Kakashi down the dim corridors, boring holes with his eyes into the ground.

They enter the class and Sasuke leans against the doorframe, scoping out the room. There are five large tables with stools, along with a few easels in the corner. Scattered around are a few students, working on their art pieces. Naruto is sitting at a table with acrylic paints, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he concentrates. He looks up at the newcomers and waves wildly at Sasuke.

“Hey! Come sit over here! Whoa, you look like you just went swimming or something!” Sasuke scowls and ambles over, curiosity getting the better of him. Naruto’s painting a portrait piece with an orange fox. The entire canvas is saturated in bright color, blue overlapping red overlapping yellow overlapping orange. It’s loud and busy, and Sasuke snorts. A perfect representation of the artist. “Are you in art?” Naruto asks excitedly, and Sasuke shakes his head. “You should sign up! Anko is super cool, although I thought she was gonna kill me when I let paint dry on all her nice brushes. But she lets you chill in here during breaks, and grades super easy, unlike Kakashi. Did you get that last Psych test back yet? I made a 70! That was with studying! I even took notes! Such a tough guy, and the mask doesn’t help.” Sasuke gives the occasional nod as Naruto chatters at him, the canvas long forgotten. He figures it could be worse; Naruto does all of the talking and doesn’t force him to exert any real effort socializing. Up close, his eyes are even more animated, and his front right tooth is ever so slightly crooked. He trails off for a moment and frowns. “Are you okay? You haven’t stopped shivering since you came in.” Sasuke nods and attempts to still his body. In a flash, Naruto shrugs off his orange jacket and holds it out. Underneath is a black t-shirt; surprising, Sasuke thinks with a smirk, he had half expected everything the boy wore to be that same obnoxious orange. He stares at the jacket for a moment, considering. It seems like a perfectly harmless gesture, though he doesn’t particularly like the idea of owing the boy or of being seen in someone else’s clothing. His stomach still churns at the idea of letting himself go into someone’s debt. He doesn’t need to attach, doesn’t need to ever get too close again. Naruto laughs nervously at the other boy’s silence and puts a hand on Sasuke’s shoulder, leaning in a bit. It’s harmless, platonic, but its physical contact and Sasuke isn’t ready for grasps, isn’t ready for touch because touch like this used to mean so much more was coming and he freezes.

The shivering seems to be quelled, but only because all other exterior signs of life have ceased as well. Sasuke looks pale, and small, and his shoulder bunched is at an odd angle to minimize contact with the other boy. Gingerly, Naruto removes his hand.

The bell rings, and Sasuke all but flees the art room. Naruto’s hand is still outstretched with the jacket as he reaches the door. Sasuke sits in his psychology desk and does not look at anyone for the rest of the day. It was an overdramatic reaction, he tells himself. Really, cringing every time someone touches you is pathetic. He forces away each and every thought of other hands, colder hands, hands that didn’t invite anything good. At lunch, he sees Naruto through the library door, looking apprehensive.

Sasuke elects to stay in the bathroom until the bell rings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the reads, likes, and comments! I'm attempting to write a chapter a week, publishing on Tuesdays, but I'm fairly swamped with school at the moment. Bear with me if I can't always keep up. Nevertheless, here's chapter two. If you want to indulge me, leave your predictions for what happened in the comments!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably has 10000 typos. i'm exhausted, and I'll try to fix it later. Have mercy

It’s Friday afternoon and Sasuke feels like the bags under his eyes might just be dragging on the ground. His head hurts. His body hurts. His mind hurts, and if he has to say a word to a single goddamn person at this goddamn school, he’ll shrivel up and blow away. He drags himself to his final class, which is of course advanced Mandarin, the absolute most tedious and difficult and absurd class on the face of the earth. The teacher is an old, half senile man on his last leg of tenure, who speaks it with a bad accent and assigns nothing but worksheets, and Sasuke half considers texting Itachi to come pick him up, but decides by a narrow margin that the interrogation he would get isn’t worth skipping class.

As he rounds the hallway, an orange blur comes flying from the other side, barreling straight into him and knocking him to the ground. “Shit! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. God, Iruka Sensei is gonna kill me if I’m late again… hey, are you alright?” Sasuke glares and rubs at his elbow, which hit a windowsill on the way down and is bleeding slightly. Naruto looms over him while the rest of the students linger nearby, hardly putting up the pretense of minding their own business. Naruto extends a hand out to help Sasuke up, but the boy brushes it off and stands on his own. “It’s fine,” he mutters, though his expensive school blazer is now slightly torn. That’s going to be a pain to get fixed. “Let me take you to the nurse, just to get a Band-Aid or something,” Naruto says, and Sasuke would protest, but he’s already being dragged off in the opposite direction of his class. He smirks a bit, wondering if the nurse is nice and he can beg off returning to class.

Really, he supposes, all they were going to do was a worksheet anyways.

Nurse Tsunde is a kind but terrifying woman who catches one glimpse of an orange tracksuit and groans, ushering the two boys into her room and rummaging around for first aid supplies. “Long time no see!” calls Naruto, and she rolls her eyes. “Indeed, Naruto. You made it a week and a half without incident. Shocking. Do you have any battle wounds, too, or did you just knock this poor kid around?”  “I didn’t do anything!” Naruto protests, huffing and crossing his arms over his chest. “Not on purpose at least! We just ran into each other and he fell down. It’s not my fault that Sasuke’s scrawny and I have muscles of steel,” he declares, rolling up a sleeve and flexing to prove his point. Tsunde’s eyes narrow fractionally, scanning over Sasuke. “So you’re the new transfer student?” she asks, and Sasuke wants to punch her for the overwhelming amount of pity in her eyes. No doubt she’s seen his records, as the school nurse. He wonders absently what conclusions she’s drawn. What details were omitted, and which ones were explicitly, meticulously recorded. Once everything came out, and the police got involved, Sasuke’s father pulled as many strings as possible to seal his son’s personal information. However, the medical records are everlasting- the careful polaroids to document bruising, the psych examination, the STD kit. He bit back a hiss as Tsunde dabs at his arm with antiseptic. “I know it stings a bit, but I have to be careful in case of infection. Those floors can’t be too clean,” she says, shuddering. Naruto, meanwhile, is playing with the tongue depressors at the other side of the room, attempting to balance them on his nose. The nurse lets out an indignant squawk when she notices, cuffing him on the head and snatching back her materials.

It becomes apparent that neither of the boys have any more reason to loiter, and Naruto begins to rock nervously on the balls of his feet. “You know, while I’m here, I might as well tell you that I haven’t been feeling too hot. I think I’m coming down with something. I probably have a fever, or I’ll get one soon. I don’t know if it would be best for me to go back to class…”

“Save it,” Tsunde snaps. “You’ve cut enough class already. Let me finish writing you a pass and then beat it.”

“Come on!” Naruto whines. “We only have one class left today! Besides, I bet Sasuke isn’t up to it either. He’s probably woozy, after so much blood loss,” Sasuke snorts, examining the small scrape on his arm, “And I might have infected him with whatever I have when I bumped into him. I should probably take him home so he can get bedrest. That would definitely be the healthiest thing for you to get us to do, as a nurse.” Tsunde rolls her eyes. “Give it a rest. Don’t you go dragging a poor bystander into your own laziness, either. Sasuke is a top student. I bet he’s anxious to go before he gets behind in class.” Naruto lets out a theatrical sigh and shoots Sasuke a pleading look. “Algebra is bad for my mental and physical state,” he moans. “I’ll explode if I go. Sasuke needs me anyways. Right?”

Tsunde snorts and looks at the raven, waiting for his input. Sasuke fiddles with his shirt hem.

“Well, I mean now that the dobe knocked me over and all, and I’m injured, I guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea to leave early and recuperate… just to be safe, you know. I mean, it’ll be a burden, sure, to miss class, but if the sacrifice has to be made…” He trails off, rubbing his sore elbow for emphasis.

Tsunde throws her hands up in the air. “Fine! Since you two are ganging up on me like this, I’ll let you off this once. I’ll have to call your guardians to let them know, so sit tight.” She paces off, muttering under her breath about ungrateful little shits. Sasuke smirks.

Naruto reaches out for a high five. “Yes! You’re the best! I won’t even get in trouble for missing my test!” he exclaims. Sasuke just rolls his eyes, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, so you get to put off failing it until the weekend ends,” he mutters, and Naruto pouts. “Teme! So mean to me, after I saved your ass from studying too. Really, you’re lucky I crashed into you. It was an act of kindness.”

“Sasuke, your brother will be here in a few minutes.” Tsunde calls. Sasuke nods and clasps his hands together. He’ll be all pissy when he realizes Sasuke got hurt, and ask way too many questions. Hell, Itachi will probably bother him all weekend because of it.

Naruto babbles on until Sasuke has to get up to leave. “See you Monday!” the blonde calls cheerfully, and Sasuke nods hesitantly, unsure how to feel about the informality. Naruto is a stubborn one- telling him to bug off is like telling a rock to soften up.

Sure enough, the second he gets in the car, Itachi is staring at him with a calculating look. Halfway home, the older brother breaks the silence. “You know, if anything was going on and this wasn’t an accident, if there’s anything you need to tell me-” “There isn’t,” says Sasuke, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window. God, he’s exhausted. Itachi raises an eyebrow at the quick denial but nods.

Really, his brother is trying. It would be cruel to not at least acknowledge that. “Thanks for picking me up,” he mutters. “I was just tired, really. You shouldn’t have had to leave work.” Itachi smiles, but there’s guilt caught between his teeth. Sasuke wants to scrub it away, wants to do a barrel roll out of the moving vehicle. “You worry too much,” his older brother responds. “If you want to come home, just send me a text. I can come get you any time you need me to.”

Sasuke nods. They sit in silence the rest of the way.

On the other side of town, sunlight decked in orange thinks of deep, deep black, liquid obsidian etched into a sliver of the moon.

God, they’re all fucked.


	4. Chapter 4

 For Itachi, childhood came and left in fragmented snapshots: private tutors, summer visits to his cousin Shisui, all overshadowed with the impenetrable distance between himself and his peers. In most of his memories, he recalls a sense of disembodiment. He was the first son of a man consistently listed in the Fortune 500, and was groomed as such. Fugaku was a tall and icy presence, and one of contradictions. He eagerly monitored Itachi’s scholastic progress, snatching up report cards like candy and skipping his precious work to attend science fairs and spelling bees. However, he was resolutely harsh; nothing was good enough. By the age of ten, Itachi did little more than nod and evade the room his father was in. He didn’t need the criticism; they both knew that Itachi was the smarter one, that he would be more successful than his predecessor. Beyond that, Itachi’s father tended to twitch a bit whenever his eldest son was in the room. Itachi had been privy to enough arguments of his parents at three in the morning to understand that he apparently had _issues_ and was lacking in _adequate socialization skills_ and _goddamn it, Mikoto, what are we supposed to do? He doesn’t even try to make friends!_

It was fine, of course. Forget them too, then. There was nothing inadequate about Itachi.

He didn’t have enough of an opinion about Sasuke to be bothered by the blatant reverence his brother held for him. Mikoto was pleased by it and found the whole situation adorable, and Sasuke was better at relating to and pleasing his mother right from the start. Seven years younger, his early years were spend in a ferocious battle for his older brother’s affection. It was tedious, at times, but Itachi considered the boy to be a pleasant, dull witted soul. After all, Sasuke could not even able to read until Itachi was almost ten, and already devouring classic works in his second language, English. He toddled around without a solid control over his limbs. He had to be trained to use the restroom and admonished into chewing with his mouth closed. Itachi pitied the poor, crude thing. He would surely grow up to be an invalid.

So it came as a great surprise to the young genius when, out of the blue, his little brother was six years old and skipping yet another grade. He was not quite as intelligent as Itachi, certainly, but he was at least normal; he was top of his class, his IQ was on par with his brother’s, and he overall seemed like less of a waste of the Uchiha gene pool with each passing day. He had his mother’s sunny temperament and his father’s ceaseless drive; beyond that, he had a rapidly developing pool of close peers and even his father had no problem engaging personally with him.

He did not take the medication that Itachi did, that left him sleepless at night but made it easier to look people in the eyes. The more the psychiatrist upped his dosage, the clearer his head was and the more easily he understood those around him. Itachi was meant to be practicing his interaction in some extracurricular outlet regularly, he supposed to parallel the playdates his brother was invited to or his mother’s book club. It was confusing that he should need treatment to achieve normalcy; Itachi had always been better than normal, was simultaneously praised for a mind that so far outstripped that of others’ but was also considered to be malfunctioning. He read extensively on it; on social cues and how to better interact and all of it was great, from an analytical, scientific viewpoint. Unfortunately, it was that very viewpoint that seemed to be the problem. He knew he was different; that much had been patently obvious for as long as he’d had the words to describe it. Sasuke ran around the house boisterously, didn’t shrug away from his mother’s hugs- rather, was known to throw himself on any of his family members at any time. He talked of his new friends at the dinner table, and though their father seemed just as estranged from the boy’s actions as Itachi was, Sasuke was undeniably the favorite of the family. He was sweet, a word so far removed from the Uchiha bloodline Itachi was half convinced the boy was adopted.

Fugaku treated both his sons alike, so there could be no case made for favoritism. That was something Itachi was firmly convinced of. He was more like his father, certainly, and more at ease with the estranged parenting style. Fugaku did not particularly approve of anything. Sasuke was the top of his class from kindergarten, played violin with the high school strings band by the time he was in the third grade. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a genius, he just wasn’t the best genius. He wasn’t Itachi. And their father knew this, and made sure it was well known, and Itachi found himself more often than not the standard. Sasuke made friends more easily, but it didn’t matter when Itachi could solve Calculus problems that stumped his professors, could recite every bone in the human body because he had been bored one weekend.

Minato hugged him tightly when he left for university, but she was the only one. Itachi felt a twisted sense of relief. Sasuke was not stupid- he was certainly going to end up decent- but he wasn’t as good as Itachi and he never would be, and that was the way that it was. Neither brother made an attempt to look the other in the eye, and that was alright, because they were Uchiha, and they were meant to be made of something stronger than human emotion.

He switched from business to pre-med the second week of his first semester and made friends with a few wackos around campus, particularly Kisame, an aspiring forensic biologist who made Itachi seem like a vanilla cupcake in comparison. His father wasn’t happy (surprise, surprise) but it was pretty apparent that Itachi would have been shit at the charismatic side of running a company and that he would probably end up curing cancer or aids in his new career track. He called home once a month exactly, at four in the afternoon on a Wednesday when his mother was guaranteed to be the only one home. That was how he got conned into making the treck all the way across Japan for his winter break. There was no stopping Mikoto when she wanted something. Itachi smirked at the thought. She should have been the one to run the business- knowing her, they would have achieved world monopolization.

The first thing that Itachi had noticed as he pulled his luggage through the foyer was that Sasuke did not come to the door to greet him. His brother was nowhere in sight, which struck him as strange; it was the kind of formality that his brother would have always insisted on adhering to. As he pulled away from his mother’s embrace, he scanned the room in confusion. “Where is brother?” he asked. Mikoto’s smile tightened somewhat. “He’s still at school right now.” Itachi raised an eyebrow. “It’s five pm, and I thought his term ended yesterday.” “He went to meet with his Biology teacher for work,” her face twisted into a frown. “Always extra credit to be had, I suppose. All of you boys are insane. You’ll probably put off the grim reaper just to make sure you meet your deadlines. Go easy on him when you see him. This term has been a bit rough.”

Itachi frowned. The thought of his baby brother overworking made him inexplicably anxious, though given their bloodline it was pretty much fated. Sasuke hadn’t had Itachi’s efficiency or organization; he had always been the type for all nighters and excessive caffeine. He had once practiced his violin solo for five hours straight, driven himself to a fever, and ended up bedridden for the concert.

Fugaku came to greet Itachi and the three sat down for dinner. “Are we not waiting?” he asked. His father frowned. “Your brother will probably be a fair bit longer. He gets home as late as eight or nine.” Itachi nodded uneasily. Mikoto rubbed at her eldest son’s shoulder. “I made your favorite. Tell us about how school has been going? How were midterms? Any new friends,” she winked, “or girlfriends?”

At seven forty five, just as dinner finished, the door opened. There was the sound of shoes being removed and slow, shuffling steps. Sasuke’s head popped through the kitchen doorframe. He smiled faintly when he saw Itachi. “Oni-san,” he greeted, “I thought you were coming tomorrow.” Itachi crossed the room in a few long steps. Sasuke stiffened slightly but allowed himself to be drawn in for a brief hug. Itachi pushed him to arm’s length and gave his brother a look over. Just as Mother had warned, Sasuke looked rough. His eyes were ringed with dark violet circles, his hair dull and skin sallow. He’d lost weight, Itachi noted with a frown, feeling the sharpness of his brother’s shoulders. He looked drawn, eyes flickering around the room tensely, hands clenched at his sides. “Long time no see, little brother,” he smiled, ruffling his hair and wincing as Sasuke ducked away. “How have you been?” “Fine. Tired,” Sasuke replied, and Mikoto sighed. “You two both should get to bed early tonight. Always overworking yourselves. I blame it on your father,” she griped, and Fugaku snorted. Sometimes Itachi reveled at the juxtaposition of his parents; Mikoto was so open, whereas Fugaku was built of impenetrability. Their children were borne of compromise, of tenuously established and sparsely shared grounds, dysfunctional but loving.

Then again, it felt more functional when Sasuke wasn’t so alarmingly fatigued and when Itachi hadn’t left to finish school across the country. Sasuke excused himself without dinner and retreated to his room, the lights off by nine thirty. Itachi tossed and turned that night, resolving to study his brother in the morning. Sasuke was in all probability fine; he was always one to become overly stressed during exams, often to the point of sickness. He had a good head on his shoulders. Itachi would have known by now if something was seriously wrong.

At 2:34 am, Itachi’s eyes snapped open. Through their connected wall, he could hear a commotion inside of Sasuke’s room. It sounded like someone was struggling. Immediately he slipped out of bed, hissing as the cold floor touched his bare feet, and made his way into the hall outside his brother’s door. Itachi turned the knob and it cracked open silently. He stood in the doorway, squinting in the dim light. Sasuke was alone. His blanket had been kicked to the floor, sheets wrapped around his ankles like snakes. He was thrashing around and making muffled noises into his pillow. Itachi crept forward. He wasn’t sure if he should wake his brother up, but it certainly didn’t feel light to leave him like this. As he reached out to shake his brother’s shoulder, Sasuke suddenly jerked awake. He recoiled at the sight of the looming figure over him, flinching back and hitting the wall behind him. Itachi stared. His baby brother’s chest was heaving, and his eyes were red rimmed. The boy suddenly squirmed and jolted out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom. He fell in front of the toilet and retched violently, gagging and spitting bile into the basin. After what felt like hours, he calmed and sagged bonelessly, his head rested against the toilet seat. Itachi, who had been knelt behind him rubbing his back, straightened up and leaned against the counter.

“What was this about,” he asked. Sasuke didn’t bother to crack an eye open. His arms and legs were covered in goose bumps. “Sorry to have woken you,” he said evenly. “I must have caught something. You should go back to bed.”

“You were having a nightmare when I came in. This was obviously a result of it,” Itachi countered. He scowled as Sasuke’s face hardened; he hadn’t meant to seem so accusatory, it was just a statement of fact and his logical conclusion. He always did seem to upset people when he was trying to help.

“I don’t recall what my dream was, brother. I must have just been agitated,” he stood shakily and flushed the toilet, moving to the sink and grabbing at a bottle of mouthwash. “Whatever the case, you should have told me you were feeling unwell. I am studying that kind of thing, after all,” Itachi said. Sasuke just nodded, eyes fixated on the sink. He pushed past his brother and made his way back to his room. Itachi followed and stood in the door for a second.

“Are you okay?” he asked. It was a more emotive conversation than they had had in years, he realized. Sasuke nodded and gently pushed the door shut.

In hindsight, so much was terribly wrong. Nevertheless, that night Itachi had determined to speak more on it the next morning and drifted off to sleep without worry. He didn’t dwell. It was, he was sure, simply a case of exam induced exhaustion. It would be fine. It had to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this chapter was a beast to write. Sorry for the filler, I promise that there will be some action soon. This was also super late, I know, and I'll try to be back on track soon. Please please please leave comments, they are always appreciated (sorry I don't respond, I'm just hella akward).
> 
> I had to flesh out Itachi and Sasuke's relationship a bit. I feel like there's never enough realistic description of their dynamic in fanfiction, and I have a weakness for it. Hope you guys enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

Sasuke shows up to psychology on Tuesday looking like a half deflated balloon. He was absent the day before, and even Kakashi doesn’t tease about his slacking; it isn’t too hard to discern from his sallow complexion that he wasn’t faking illness. He slips around the hallways, a shadow at the edge of the walls, and Naruto isn’t surprised that he turns for the library at lunch time. Maybe it’s a sign of his own ineptitude that he doesn’t let the boy be, but Naruto considers leaving Sasuke alone for all of three seconds before turning and crashing after him.

Sasuke is behind a row of books in the back of the room, flipping through a book, when Naruto finds him. The pages are pressed to his nose, and his eyes don’t flicker away even as the other boy unsubtly approaches. This boy screams boundaries, from his posture to his white knuckles, screams _leave me the fuck alone_ , but they had some kind of a moment the other day at the nurse’s office, and in Naruto’s book, that means that they’re kind of friends. Sasuke needs a friend, he decides, and that friend is going to be him, whether the reclusive boy like it or not.

Naruto reaches out to tap on his arm and find himself shoved a foot away, cradling his wrist an instant later. “What the hell? You _hit_ me, teme!” he cries. Sasuke is half a head shorter, but Naruto somehow feels like the smaller one, shrinking under such a curdling glare. More than the look he’s sent, the candor of the motion, an unhesitating strike, is enough to drive home the point. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me,” he says, snapping his book shut. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to come to lunch! Jesus, I didn’t know you were gonna break my arm off!” Naruto pouts, rubbing his abused wrist. Sasuke raises an eyebrow. His face is blank but his neck and ears are bright red.

“Clearly you have some kind of unhealthy fixation with stalking me to fix my social life, so let me make this abundantly clear: I don’t want your companionship. I don’t need your friendship. I’m here to be alone, and I would prefer it if you respected that. I might not look it, but I will break you in half if you don’t stop bothering me.”

Naruto swallows audibly and nods, too stunned to bite back a retort. A moment later, Sasuke turns to leave, snapping him out of his stupor. He’s wilted back to his usual size, a scrawny, sickly boy with translucent skin and perpetual bedhead. Like a kitten, albeit one that gives off the subtle impression of menace.

“Bullshit. That’s not true and you know it. No one likes being all alone and depressed. You can pretend all you want. It isn’t healthy, and I’m not gonna leave you alone until you don’t look so emo all the time. Anyways, I came here to give you this,” he says, holding out a packet of papers. Sasuke turns and stares at his hand. “It’s the work you missed. I got you an extra copy.” With that, Naruto turns and leaves. He stomps all the way to the cafeteria, planting himself on his seat with a huff. Kiba snickers and reaches over to pinch his cheek.

“Aww, did poor widdle Naruto get his feelings hurt?” he taunts. Naruto punches his shoulder with a hair more force than strictly necessary. “Bastard,” he mutters. “He had the nerve to hit me! I’ll show him! Trying to help the prick out, and all he does is lash out! His bite was worse than his bark, too.”

“Serves you right, moron,” Sakura says. She and Ino sit at the end of the table, textbooks and notes scattered across multiple seats. “He’s probably trying to study for our Calc test next period.” “Or he just doesn’t like you,” Ino intones, “Either way seems completely feasible to me.”

“Not everyone is a giant nerd like you two. Some of us like to go outside every now and then, maybe even have fun,” Kiba retorts. Sakura gives him the finger. “Oh please. So I can go roll around and have sex with my dog, or whatever it is you two do?” The look on Kiba’s face is enough to send Naruto giggling. He reaches over and steals the fries off of Choji’s second plate, earning an indignant squawk. Sakura and Ino start squabbling about the answer to a problem and Kiba gets into a debate with Lee about the virtues of canines. Naruto leans back in his seat, enjoying the hum of students around him. He feels bad, almost, about yelling at the bastard like that, even if he totally had it coming to him. He resolves to try again when he sees the boy next. He doesn’t believe for an instant that anyone likes feeling all alone.

~

Sasuke drags himself home and straight to his bed, without so much as the energy to slam his door. He’s still on the tail end of a cold, and he’d like nothing more than to sleep through the rest of high school. Itachi hasn’t been home before ten or eleven in weeks, so he settles in to camp in his bed for the rest of the night. He’s freezing from the walk home, but the heater buzzes gently in the corner, and he’s piled in blankets, everything warm and soft…

Itachi steps into the house at 7pm, three hours earlier than usual. He had been sorting through the data frame of patients at the new hospital, losing track of time. Tonight, his supervisor had found him in his same cramped position and all but forced him out the door. Nevertheless, it wasn’t a terrible loss. Sasuke stayed home sick the day before, and he should probably keep a close eye.

He isn’t surprised that his younger brother is asleep when he gets home. Sasuke and he have always been a balancing act; Itachi is happy with five hours of rest, whereas even back in Tokyo, Sasuke had gone to bed early every night. Since the incident, he behaves like a housecat, curling up at every possible chance. He sleeps fully clothed, legs tucked under his arms. Itachi decides not to incur the wrath of his little brother when forced out of sleep, so he heads back downstairs and into the kitchen.

Sure enough, a few hours later, the smell of curry cooking lures the boy downstairs. He steps quietly, with all the grace of his mother, so that Itachi doesn’t even notice his arrival until he hears a kitchen chair scraping back. His hair is mussed and lopsided, and Itachi would reach out and brush it into place if he didn’t value his limbs quite so much.

He finishes the food and places two steaming plates down. The two brothers eat in silence for a few minutes, until the awkward aura is too much for Itachi to ignore. He sets his napkin down and settles in for a game of imitation small talk.

“How was your day, Sasuke?”

“Fine. And you?”

“Fine as well,” a pause. “The hospital is digitizing its patient archives. I took a course in computer science during university, so I’ve been managing it. We’ve already paid for a contract with a company that was meant to provide decent software, but their organization is tedious and ineffective. I’ve been tampering with it all week. Fortunately, the hours will go towards my residency, so it isn’t a waste for me. I believe that it will allow us to take on far more patients regularly, as we will be able to delegate far less staff to managerial services…” Itachi trails off from his tangent, a bit embarrassed. Sasuke is playing with his food, half listening. “Are you feeling better? I hope you weren’t feeling ill at school,” He says.

“No, I was fine.” He stands with his plate in a fluid motion, edging his way to the sink. Itachi frowns. His brother is more antsy than usual. He hasn’t gotten ten words out yet, and he’s barely touched his food. “Is something the matter?” He asks. Sasuke tenses.

Itachi feels his blood run cold, though he knows, logically, analytically, that it is very unlikely that anything is truly, irrevocably wrong. Sasuke is fine, probably, but he wasn’t before, and they all missed it, and now Itachi lives in perjury for it every night when he hears his brother cry out in his sleep. “It’s nothing much,” Sasuke says. “There’s an obnoxious kid in my class that won’t stop bugging me. He’s nice, just annoying. I yelled at him today when I probably shouldn’t have.”

Itachi nods, the dread in his chest once more quelled. He hesitates for a moment before responding. “I’m glad. If he gives you more trouble, just tell me and I’ll take care of it.” Sasuke draws tight as a bowstring, and Itachi belatedly realizes that he has blundered. “I am _fine_ , brother,” he clips. “I do not need you to intervene right now.” “I’m sure, I know,” Itachi yields, “I merely meant to extend the offer in case you ever do need it.” _In case you need it again,_ goes unspoken.

“Whatever. I won’t,” Sasuke growls. Itachi raises an eyebrow. “With all due respect, what happened to you was not something you should take lightly. I don’t want you to suffer alone.” Sasuke rounds so fast, Itachi is shocked he doesn’t lose balance. His eyes have gone flat black.

“I don’t ever take that shit lightly,” he sneers. “I get up every day and deal with it, and I do it alone just fine. As for you and your guilty guard dog complex, the next sick bastard that touches me like _he_ did is getting a hand cut off.”

They stand at opposite sides of the kitchen, Sasuke’s hair raised and fangs bared. Itachi wonders if there was ever a parallel universe where they got along, where he didn’t have to make an impossible choice between Miserable Sasuke and Even More Miserable Sasuke. It’s never not a fight, these days. Their utensils lay forgotten with all other signs of civilization.

“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise,” he replies, because its what Sasuke needs to hear and beneath all that fire is a smoke thin enough to slip away between cracks in the roof. The two retire to their respective rooms, lights dim and breathing quiet. Itachi pities the poor fool who’s been trying to stampede into Sasuke’s life. Glass might be fragile, but if you shatter it, it’ll hurt you right back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feeling very ehhhh, but trying to develop the conflict and the characterization in a way that is natural and unrushed. Perhaps some of you already pretty much get what happened to Sasuke?
> 
> As a side note, if anyone is interested in beta-ing, I wouldn't have so many pesky typos. Feel free to point them out to me when you see them, so I can go in and fix it.
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated more than you could even know.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of suicide (non explicit)

“What do you mean, I’m failing?”

Kakashi does not so much as blink at Naruto’s screeching. The accusation rings out in the abandoned classroom before settling into an uneasy silence. The teacher slowly, lethargically digs around his desk for a bookmark and lays his novel down. He shuffles with some papers for a moment. Naruto stands in front of him, huffing slightly from his sprint up the stairs a minute before. Interim reports have come out.

After a few more minutes, the teacher finally acknowledges his existence. “It’s quite simple, Naruto,” he replies. “Your grades are piss poor. You’ve done your homework, mostly, but you’ve yet to get fifty percent of a test correct. If you don’t manage to bring it up within the next few weeks, I’ll be forced to kick you off of the soccer team.”

Naruto feels his face turn red. “It’s not my fault I don’t like this crap!” he whines. “You’re the one who told me to take it, so I’d have enough school credits this year. How am I supposed to do anything about it now, anyways? And you won’t kick me off the team,” he smirks, crossing his arms.

“What unit have we just studied?” Kakashi asks. He sighs deeply at the blank stare he receives in return. “Memory, Naruto. We’ve just finished memory. As in, how to ace a test. Create a study schedule and some mnemonic devices. Sleep eight hours a night. Hell, if that was all really lost on you, figure out an effective way to cheat. I don’t care, it’s not really my problem.”

“Please, please, please,” Naruto begs, “there’s got to be something you can do. I’m the best striker on the team. You guys wouldn’t make half the points you do without me!” “Or half the red cards,” Kakashi interjects. “Sorry, kiddo. There will be no special exceptions.”

Just at that moment, there’s a knock at the door. It swings open and Naruto’s mouth immediately dries. Standing in the fame, looking fidgety, is Sasuke.

He’s been missing more and more school lately; whereas before, he was out maybe a day a week, he’s now more often than not absent. Naruto isn’t sure how the boy is still passing- when he asked Nurse Tsunade, she said there were special considerations in place. Sasuke glides across the room, in that way of his that evokes in Naruto the idea of an elaborate dance. He sets a pile of papers down primly on the edge of his teacher’s desk. Naruto recognizes the work they had been assigned for the last few weeks, all filled in with painfully small, neat handwriting.

“My grade has slipped two points,” Sasuke says, not looking directly at either other person. “I’d like to know why. I’ve turned in everything I’ve been assigned.” “I give a participation grade,” Kakashi responds. “You never show up, so you get zeroes,” he adds mildly. Sasuke’s eyes narrow. “There’s nothing I can do about that. You can’t grade me on a standard impossible for me to fulfil. Perhaps you could give me an extra assignment to replace it?”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. While I understand your predicament, it’s the standard required of everyone else. To give special consideration would be unfair. Besides, you’ve still got the second best grade in the class,” the teacher responds. Sasuke twitches at that. Kakashi rummages through his desk and produces a new papers, holding them out, but the boy makes no move to accept them.

Finally, Kakashi heaves out a sigh. “Fine. I can offer you one alternative. You’re not going to like it though. I have a few students that need extra help studying and learning the information. You could work with them on your own time, and they would report to me for your grade. That’s all I can offer.” “Fine,” replies Sasuke. “I can manage that. I can start immediately.”

“Immediately?” Kakashi echoes. Underneath his mask is the shadow of a Cheshire grin. “Well, I appreciate the enthusiasm. Naruto, it’s your lucky day. You will be tutored by Sasuke from now on. I’ll leave the two of you to work it out. Now leave, I have grading to do.” Sasuke’s ears turn red, again, and even Naruto somehow goes still. For the first time that afternoon, the raven turns to look at his classmate, obvious disdain marring his features. He seems to have a private battle with himself, ultimately slumping and giving a weak nod. The two boys amble out of the door.

“Um, so,” Naruto stutters, “I guess we can-“ he’s cut off when a cellphone is shoved into his face. “Put your contact in,” Sasuke barks. “I’ll text you later tonight to work out the logistical details. My brother is waiting for me outside right now.”

“Sure thing!” the blonde replies. “I have to start passing this class by the end of the next grading period, or I’m toast, so the sooner we start the better.” Sasuke nods absently, rubbing at his temples. “Okay then, see you around.” He turns to leave.

“Hey,” Naruto calls. The other boy stills. “I wanted to say… I was out of line, in the library the other day. I shouldn’t have butted in. But if you ever want to, the seat at my lunch table is always open,” the blonde says, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. A smile ghosts its way onto Sasuke’s face. “Okay, whatever,” he replies, but he seems vaguely pleased. Naruto smiles brightly. “And you had better get me an A, or I’ll tell Kakashi-sensei to give you a bad grade!” “Please,” the other snorts, “I’m no miracle worker. Don’t ask me of the impossible.”

Naruto mocks hurt, but smiles as the other figure retreats down the hallway. He wonders absently where they’ll study; if at Sasuke’s house, how it will look. How the boy will act alone.

His phone buzzes around 8 pm with a new number. The text reads:

_Hello this is Sasuke from Psych class I can probably do wednesday, thurs, or fri at my house after five please let me know_

Naruto takes a moment to respond

**Ok! :) how about thursday @ 5:30?? Send me ur address pls**

A few minutes later, his phone beeps again with directions and a request to bring his book and notes. Naruto debates sending back something teasing, but ultimately decides against it. He doesn’t want to get himself blocked.

He has plenty of time to annoy his new tutor, anyways.

~

Sasuke is laying in bed when Itachi gets home, like usual. The older brother frowns; he’s usually not home before nightfall, so he can make the rational assumption that his little brother goes to bed sometime reasonable. Today, its four pm. Sasuke had been up around 5 or 6 in the morning, he had heard the boy moving around, but still. He had been back in bed by the time that Itachi left for work.

He enters the threshold of Sasuke’s room cautiously, making plenty of noise to announce his presence. The boy rolls over, and sits up against the headboard, rubbing his hand over his face lethargically. “You’re home early,” he rasps, sleep etched into his features. Itachi nods. “You have tutoring in an hour, you know.” Sasuke groans. “Can I cancel and do it tomorrow?”

“You already did that yesterday.”

“I’m tired. Sleep is healthy.”

Itachi opens the curtains, and sunlight streams into the room. “Not 24/7. You’re going to get bedsores. Come on, give it an hour or two. You want your grade to improve again, right?”

“Not enough to get up,” Sasuke responds, flinging his blanket over his head. “Oh really? That’s not how you’ll feel in a few hours, when you’ve had something to eat and gotten out of this pit,” Itachi counters. “You don’t know that,” Sasuke snaps. “I’m a doctor, Sasuke. You’re in the midst of a particularly heavy depressive episode. The treatment any medical profession would prescribe would be to take your medication, see a therapist, which I don’t make you go to, I might add, and they would all strongly advise against staying locked up in a dim, stale room. You’re just making yourself more miserable.”

“Well darn, I wouldn’t have guessed,” Sasuke retorts. “Cool, yeah, perfect answer, you get an A+. Now leave me alone.”

“The Naruto boy will be here in an hour. How many days has it been since you showered?”

A pillow comes careening towards his face, but Itachi blocks it with ease. His brother isn’t really dangerous at times like this to anyone but himself- he’s volatile, but uncoordinated and weak. “Go away!” Sasuke yells, “I don’t want to and you can’t fucking make me! I’m not a fucking test question! Just get out!” Itachi sighs, rubs at his temples. “I will when you get up and start getting ready.”

Sasuke chokes, and he’s sobbing, clawing at his pillow. “I can’t, Itachi. I cannot. I can’tiIcan’tIcan’tthereyougo, IactuallycannotdothisbecauseI’mafuckingfailure, there, I’m a failure, you win, you always win, are you HAPPY? Just leave me alone!” Itachi’s stomach twists and turns with guilt, but he knows better than to let his brother put anything off another day. It’ll only get worse and worse, the anxiety becoming more convoluted, rooting deeper and deeper into the soft, damaged grey matter of his little brother’s head. It’s moments like this that Itachi thanks his lucky stars for med school- he has no clue how or why his brother feels, but he’s read it, memorized it, and he knows the correct responses.

He cannot second guess himself, because he has absolutely nothing else to fall back on.

Itachi sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing soothing circles into his brother’s back. He waits a few minutes before speaking. “How about this? You just take a shower, and I’ll make you some toast, and then we’ll reevaluate.” By now, the younger’s breathing has begun to calm, though there’s still the occasional hiccup. Sasuke nods, slowly swinging his legs off the side of the mattress. “Promise me you won’t make me if I still can’t, though,” he says. Itachi nods. “I can’t make you do anything, Sasuke.”

A wry smile twists at the corner of his younger brother’s mouth. “A+, of course,” he snorts, suddenly bitter. Itachi stands silently and exits, resolutely ignoring the hurt in his chest. His brother, is quite simply, a bit messed up. Nothing any more personal than what can be consulted from a medical file.

It was always there, lurking just under the surface, he supposes. Sasuke was anxious and perfectionistic and insecure to a fault, but he would’ve been just fine. He was very highly functioning- both brothers were. Sasuke would have graduate top of his class, gotten into a prestigious school, perhaps Yale, as he had been mulling over, and then he would have figured his life out and ended up okay.

Then that teacher had to go and do _that_ to him, fuck him up so bad that he would never be the same. Itachi had left his brother for college and come back that Christmas to find the old Sasuke dead and gone. No longer was his temperament that of the slightly shy, sweet boy he had once been. Sasuke was moody, angry, depressed. He didn’t worship his brother anymore, because he pretty much hated everything. He cried in his sleep and didn’t eat and didn’t talk and he got so, so close to the very edge-

Itachi had been the one to hear the bathwater running at two in the morning, to knock the door down, grasp at the too still body and read the note and run, run, run to the phone because his brother could _die, how the fuck has it gotten to this how the fuck do I ever fix him?_

And here they are, a year later, and everything is just so _exhausting_ and difficult. Itachi can understand why his brother is always in bed. It’s exhausting, trying to tiptoe around a crumbled life, to glue it back together piece by piece.  It must be even harder, when that life is your own.

He hears the shower turn on and represses a shudder. There is no bath in this house, he had made sure of it. Sasuke is, on a physical level, completely safe. He knows that Itachi will not hesitate to pry the door off of its hinges if the shower takes more than ten minutes or so.

It’s still uncomfortable, the way that they dance around one another. Itachi would call it love, that they’ve managed to keep it up for so long, but he indulges himself in the calm of the kitchen with a bit too much pleasure. He imagines his brother skipping down the stairs like he would have at age five, throwing himself at his favorite brother with a ferocious hug.

The water cuts off, and a moment later, Itachi can hear slow, reluctant steps entering the kitchen. He keeps his back turned, preparing the food.

It’s just an adjustment, that’s all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late bc im the kind of person that can't ever be on time :)))
> 
> But yeah.
> 
> Oooh shoot look at this, actions are happening. The next chapter should hopefully be out this Tuesday, as I'm out of school at the moment. Also, referring to a comment I received, I've attempted to attribute the dialogue to each character more clearly, but please let me know if its still unclear. As always, comments are appreciated so much and I read all of them and giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush.


	7. Chapter 7

The Uchiha house is so incredibly characteristic of its two inhabitants, Naruto has to push away laughter. From the outside, it’s a simple two story affair on the far edge of Konaha’s suburbs. The strip of lawn out front is tidy but plain, and the only adornment to the exterior is a solid brown mat in front of the door. Inside, all of the walls are painted a pale grey. The living room that Naruto steps into has two couches, a bare coffee table, and a surprisingly extravagant TV set with, if his eyes aren’t playing tricks, an XBOX and a controller. Miraculous. He had assumed the Uchiha robots just stared at walls in their free time. There are bookshelves covering an entire wall, half of which contain only textbooks and encyclopedias with titles that Naruto can’t pronounce. A taller, older version of Sasuke that Naruto can only assume is his brother is the one who opens the door. “Hi,” starts Naruto cheerfully, “I’m-“ “Sasuke will be down in a moment,” the man cuts him off. There’s an awkward pause. “I’m Itachi, Sasuke’s guardian. Would you like anything to eat or drink?” Naruto declines, and Itachi leaves him standing in the living room. The blonde shrugs off his backpack and plops down on the couch, rummaging around for his notebook and a pen.

A few minutes later, soft steps come from the stairs. Sasuke walks in, sock clad feet not making a sound on the wooden flooring. Naruto’s mouth goes a bit dry.

Sasuke’s hair is damp, even wilder than usual, and his cheeks are faintly pink, presumably from a shower. He has on a black v neck t shirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, just barely managing not to expose a sliver of skin. He looks as tired as always, but in his home, it comes across as more docile and pliant. Naruto can imagine him on a regular day, curled up into a thick blanket on the couch, sipping something warm and lazily flipping through a book. Naruto snorts at that and mentally smacks himself upside the head. Please. Sasuke perches on the couch with his back rigid and hands folded primly. He immediately takes out a set of papers and begins to sort through them, hardly sparing a glance at the student beside him.

“I guess we should start at the beginning of the chapter. Have you done the homework yet?” He asks. Naruto shakes his head. “Okay. Me neither. Wanna just do those together?”

For the next half hour, Sasuke walks Naruto through each question. They end up having to consult the internet for pretty much every single one, but they soldier through. Naruto collapses back onto the couch after the final solution, clutching at his head.

“Ahh, why did I take this? All of the terms are literally the same! It’s so dumb. I’m not even sure if I wanna pass.” Sasuke huffs. “You should’ve said that earlier and saved us the hour.” Naruto pouts. “But then you would have missed out on my beautiful face for a whole week! We can’t have that, can we?” “Please. Actually, that’s why I’ve been absent. I had to build up the energy just to bear that obnoxious hair of yours for an entire class period.” Naruto laughs and goes to shove Sasuke’s shoulder, but stops himself. Somehow, he doesn’t think the gesture would be appreciated.

The two can somewhat coexist, it seems, but Sasuke keeps himself pressed to the edge of the couch with at least a few inches between their legs at all times. Still, he hadn’t chased Naruto out of the room. Yet.

“I guess this can be it for today,” Sasuke says. “You should ace the quiz tomorrow, or at least pass it.” “And you?” Naruto asks. Sasuke’s polite expression tightens. “I probably won’t take it then.” “Why not?” Naruto protests. “You have everything done. You should just show up to class!” “For tomorrow, yes,” Sasuke replies, studying his nails closely, “But I’m actually a few units behind right now. Tomorrow after school I’ll take a test from chapter 5.” “Oh. Is that why you haven’t been coming? You could still do the current stuff, though. Kiba missed a couple of weeks last year, and they let him take, like, forever to get it all back in, ‘cause he had regular school on top of it.” Sasuke looks uncomfortable, Naruto realizes too late. He’s about to ramble more about Kiba when Itachi swoops in, inadvertently saving the day. “It’s getting late. Would you like to stay for dinner? If not, do you need a ride home?” “A ride would be awesome,” Naruto says. Sasuke stands and gives a little nod. “Text me about times next week.” “Okay,” Naruto beams, relieved. At least Sasuke isn’t as standoffish at home as he is at school. Then again, he’s so rarely actually there, the entire environment must seem foreign.

The ride back to his house with Itachi is silent and awkward for the first few minutes. The car is a small, luxurious silver thing, and Itachi drives at least fifteen over the speed limit the entire way. When they stop at a light, the older man clears his throat. “Thank you for studying with him. It’s a big help.” “What are you talking about?” Naruto asks. “He’s the one who’s tutoring me. I’m sure he could’ve gotten it done in half the time.” “Sure, if he did any of it,” Itachi replies coolly. “His sense of motivation is abysmal. It does him a world of good to be forced to adhere to some kind of schedule, so please come whenever you can. It’ll be a big help.”

Naruto clears his throat and stares out of the window. “Is he okay?” He asks, finally. “I mean, not coming to school and all?” Itachi gives a little, pained grin. “He’s fine, at least physically, if that’s what you mean. He just can’t quite handle the strain of school right now, so he’s worked it out to do his assignments from home. It should be temporary.” Naruto nods slowly. “Okay. Well… If there’s anything I can do, just say so.” Itachi regards him for a moment. “Just. He’d already kill me in a thousand egregiously violent ways for telling you this much. But he’s kind of pathetic right now. So just. Put up with him, if you can.”

“He’s really not that bad,” Naruto protests. “Kind of snarky, but it’s funny.” Itachi snorts. “Snarky is a euphemism. This is your house, right?” “Yeah, thanks!”

Naruto steps inside and watches from the doorway as the silver car disappears down the bend in a blur. Itachi is interesting, he decides, even if there’s something about him that’s kind of off center to talk to. The Uchihas are a wacky bunch.

Sasuke had seemed a bit friendlier, though. Naruto still wants to crack him open, see what kind of a mess spills out. He pushes that thought away quickly, a bit disgusted with himself. Sasuke obviously has _problems,_ the kind that teachers make exceptions for and even someone as blockheaded as Naruto can notice. It isn’t right to take advantage of that.

That doesn’t mean he can’t replay the image of Sasuke’s face going a perfect pale pink when he caught Naruto staring as he stretched his arms over his head, shirt riding up slightly. They were downright unfair, those sweatpants- sweatpants are not supposed to slip down to hang just so, low on your hipbones. Naruto is fucking gone, and it’s a pair of sweatpants’ fault. The thought is pathetic enough to leave him as irate as Sasuke.

The two will make a perfect pair, he decides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally an update! I'm out of excuses. Next chapter will be out by next Tuesday, or you can all flag this as spam and get me kicked off the website.  
> (Don't actually do that, please. That would be demoralizing.)  
> Anyways, midterms are in three weeks and if I make it out alive, I will try to continue to update, or at least to give forewarning when I can't. Please review, it gets me off my ass and onto my... er... well, I'm still on my ass, but I open up a Word document.   
> Anyways. Until next week.


	8. Chapter 8

Sasuke steps into Kakashi’s classroom an hour after classes have ended on Monday. He holds in his hand the last three unit’s worth of work; he can take the tests in the afternoons and hopefully be caught up again by the end of the week, provided his teacher is feeling helpful. It isn’t quite where he would like to be, school wise- he’s still slightly behind in his history class, and in the middle of negotiation with his French teacher as to how she should present him with oral recitation tests when he won’t do them in front of the class. Still, he’s done a lot in the last 48 hours, to the point that Itachi was starting to be an ass about it.

(His hands might be shaking slightly. He’s on his third cup of coffee, has drank one for every hour of sleep he got last night.)

Sasuke is currently on ‘medical’ leave from school (in his case, for being sick in the head), and usually he’s incredibly grateful for it. The social pressures and day to day keeping of strict schedule had been incredibly difficult when he had tried to conform to the regular school day at the beginning of the year, and school buildings themselves happen to be landmines of emotional baggage. Beyond that, it had taken him mere weeks to max out on unexcused absences. So the allowance to work from home and meet with teachers sporadically has been overall positive; he isn’t a procrastinator by nature, unless he’s having a day where he can’t get out of bed. And that doesn’t really count.

Despite all the good that has come of it, he still sometimes considers giving all of these perks up and going back to regular school, just to avoid the one on one teacher conferences. Most of his teachers will meet as a unit when it’s necessary to go over assignments. It’s still awkward, but he’s at least in a group. He at least can focus on the safety of numbers, rather than feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand in the way they always do in the presence of anyone vaguely similar to Orochimaru. Being a teacher is enough; Sasuke trusts his teachers about as well as he can run out the door for help if necessary.

Kakashi can never make it to communal meetings. He doesn’t stay after school in classroom; he’s the head soccer coach, and he has to get out to the fields immediately when the final bell rings. When it is necessary for him to meet with a student, he does so around 5 or 6 in the evening, at which point most of the faculty has already left. So that means that the two meet alone. Kakashi is perfectly upright. He keeps the door wide open, janitors right down the hall. He seems to have an affinity for personal space that rivals even Sasuke’s- other than handing papers over, there has been no physical contact. For that, Sasuke is grateful.

So he’s paranoid; how could he not be? He had trusted blindly before, and things had started just as innocently. Orochimaru, the Biology teacher, had selected him as a TA, offered extra credit and even a letter of recommendation. Sasuke had lapped it up; back then, he had liked Biology. He had done months of sweeping and wiping down tables, grading papers and all of the other menial labor that could be delegated. And, sure, Orochimaru had an eccentric, reclusive aura about him, but he had seemed utterly harmless. Just an old man with a passion in the subject he taught, taking a shining to some of his students and wanting to encourage them.

It was only in hindsight that the telltale signs could possibly be put together. The way he stood, nearly pressed against Sasuke to read over his student’s shoulder. The abundance of time that the two spent alone together after school behind closed doors. The errant brush of a hand against his student’s thigh, seemingly absentminded, as the teacher explained a concept in detail.

It isn’t wrong of Sasuke to mistrust Kakashi. Teachers that misuse their authority towards their students exist, and Sasuke remains hyperaware just in case. He enters the empty classroom, nonetheless, with his head high and a painted on air of impassivity. Across the wide oak desk, his teacher is leaned back in his chair with his feet propped up on top of some ungraded papers. He doesn’t have to pretend to be passive; Sasuke’s fairly certain that Kakashi is the human incarnation of a sloth.

“I’m afraid I only have ten minutes or so to chat, today. I have a meeting I can’t evade,” Kakashi says. Sasuke is hit with a wave of relief. He hadn’t realized just how much he had been dreading this get-together. “Your grades are the same. You’ve slipped in rankings slightly, but you’re still number six in the class. To be frank, everyone expected as much. It isn’t something I’m going to waste either of our time trying to fix. You’re doing about as well as is possible, given the circumstances.” He flips through a stack of papers, eyebrow furrowing when he skims the top of one. “It is December, though. We’ll have our Midterms in a couple of weeks. You will be expected to take those in class. Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to open discussion about when you could begin to reintegrate into attending regularly. This isn’t meant to be a long term situation, Sasuke.”

Sasuke nods. He does the trick of looking at the center of Kakashi’s forehead, so it appears that he is making eye contact. However, given that the man wears a mask over most of his face, the effect is somewhat lost. “I understand that,” he replies. “Itachi has been trying to get me to make a plan, so that I’m forced to come in the mornings or afternoons at least. Maybe I can start within a week or two.”

“You know,” Kakashi says, “Homeschooling is always an option. I understand that you were on homebound because the school environment was… quite upsetting to you, given that it was a classroom where your teacher was abusing you.” Sasuke nods. He’s uncomfortable. This is uncomfortable. He should have just handed in his work and left.

He hadn’t been able to bear the sight of his old school, once everything had finally come out. The rooms were all so uniform- any one of them might have been the very place Orochimaru had come onto him. So he had moved schools, but then everything had still been so hard. Nevertheless, Sasuke Uchiha is not a quitter. He refuses to avoid high schools for the rest of his life just because one person happened to treat him very badly. Beyond that, universities tend not to look kindly upon homeschooled applicants, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get into his dream school because he’s afraid of thirty desks and a chalkboard.

“I won’t be dropping out,” he says. His voice comes out firmer than he had expected. Kakashi just nods lazily. “If you’re sure. Anyways, I’m out of time. Scat.” Sasuke stands and makes a beeline for the door.

“One more thing,” Kakashi calls. “When you start back with regular classes, we won’t have to do these one on one meetings anymore. I can probably wrangle some of the other teachers in during lunch. But until then, you should know that there are cameras in all the rooms, in the corners.” Sure enough, a tiny metal box hangs on the opposite wall. “Just so you know. And all of the tapes are open for anyone to check at any time.”

It’s embarrassing, that his discomfort had been so obvious. It doesn’t really negate the sense of fear, either, and it’s awkward that Kakashi knows how wary he had been. Sasuke tries not to dwell on it, and instead to remind himself that at least he won’t have to be alone with the weirdo anymore soon.

He probably needs to sleep, but instead, he gets home and starts on his History work with a manic fervor that leaves Itachi ready to shove a Xanax down his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised it would be out. Sorry for any mistakes I missed. I'm neck deep in school right now.  
> It's unlikely that I'll have a chapter out next week, but I'll try to keep the delay at two weeks or under. In the meantime, thanks for continuing to read this mess and leave input. It's immensely appreciated.
> 
> (On a side note, I've tried to block my dialogue the way that Ana93 suggested. Please tell me if this is closer to what you had suggested. Dialogue is my Achilles heel, I've decided.)
> 
> So yeah. You know the drill. I would sell my body and soul for comments. Thanks for reading. See you soon, hopefully.


	9. Chapter 9

Sasuke is sitting in class on Friday morning when Naruto walks in. His uniform is neatly pressed, untamable hair the same as ever. He sits with his back straight, facing forwards even though Kakashi probably won’t show up for another ten minutes or so. Naruto makes a very very real effort not to stare, but Sasuke still catches his eye. Naruto waves, smiles the same big _I’m a big puppy dog please just be my friend_ smile he always uses on his reclusive friend. Sasuke’s lips curl up a tiny bit, but it seems more like a grimace than a smile. That in itself isn’t out of character, but he’s paler than usual, knuckles gripping his desk hard enough to look painful.

Naruto decides that Kiba can survive class alone for the period. He moves his belongings across the room.

“Go back to your friend. He looks lost.” Sasuke snaps. Sure enough, Kiba is staring after them like an abandoned little kid. Naruto snorts.

“It’s fine, he’ll deal with it. You look like you’re gonna bolt any second.”

“Don’t give me any ideas.”

At that moment, Kakashi comes in, an anomaly that sets the class on edge. Not only is their teacher on _time,_ a sign of the apocalypse in itself, but he’s starting class a minute early.

No one says a word as he takes roll.

Sasuke is normal- reserved, snarky, vaguely arrogant in his own intelligence, and Naruto finds it relieving. He wonders if the issues that kept him from school have really been sorted, and perhaps Sasuke will be all better.

Naruto zones out halfway through class and stares at the raven, watching the way he worries his lip in concentration. His bangs are getting longer, nearly touching his eyelashes, and Naruto feels the urge to reach up and brush them away. Sasuke looks less tired than he has, less weighed down, and Naruto hopes that something has really changed. That the prolonged absence has made him less unhappy.

The second that class ends, Sasuke bolts for the library, promptly dashing Naruto’s fantasies. A feeling of déjà vu washes over him, and if it were a month or so earlier, Naruto would have gone charging after him. As it is, he pulls out his cell phone and opts for a text instead.

**Hey Sas u ok? want me 2 pull a fire alarm or smthing?**

Moments later, Sasuke responds.

_I’m fine. I wouldn’t object, though._

_That was a joke. Please don’t pull the fire alarm. I don’t want to get expelled._

Naruto laughs. **U afraid?**

_No, but if you get me in trouble, you definitely should be. Go rekindle your friendship with Kiba. I have homework._

Naruto rolls his eyes and puts his phone away, a smile lingering on his face.

 

Sakura keeps staring at him throughout lunch when she thinks he isn’t looking. She leans in to Ino’s ear and whispers something, causing to other girl to glance over at him as well. “Is there a problem?” he finally asks the third time he catches them. Into shrugs and looks away, but Sakura meets his gaze.

“What are you trying with Sasuke?” She asks.

Naruto blinks. “What?”

“I mean, what do you want?” She asks. “Because you’re all over him, and other than you I’m pretty sure he doesn’t interact with anyone. I sit beside him in three classes and I’ve never heard him say a word. He’s, like, the opposite of you and your usual friends, but you’re hanging off of him every time I see you in the halls.”

Naruto pauses, frowning. “He’s cool, though. He’s funny. In like a ‘I’m gonna murder your family’ kind of way. I don’t know. I’m not trying anything.”

“I just don’t want this to be another Hinata,” Sakura responds, crossing her arms. Naruto cringes. “I didn’t mean to do that! I wouldn’t have invited her to that party if I had known Kiba’s older brother was in town from college. And it all ended up okay.”

“I wouldn’t say that crying in the middle of a stranger’s living room because someone tried to get her to do a keg stand constitutes okay, Naruto.”

“That wasn’t me!”

“Look,” Sakura huffs, ‘I’m just saying. Be gentle. I heard a rumor about Sasuke the other day, that he had to leave his old school because of a teacher that was a pedophile. It might not be true, but I don’t want you to get tangled up in something you can’t handle.”

Naruto’s stomach flips, but he keeps his expression neutral. “Even if that’s the case, I’m not going to do anything to screw him up. I’m just trying to be friends. It’s not like anyone else has made an effort,” He adds, and everyone looks away. Sakura sighs. “I know. Just. Be gentle, if that’s within your Neanderthal capabilities.”

Naruto sticks his tongue out at her. “Jealous because I get to talk to the hot new boy?”

Kiba snorts. “I knew he was just in it because the Uchiha is pretty.” That earns him a punch on the shoulder from both Naruto and Sakura.

 “He is hot, though,” Ino chimes in. “How do you deal with that up close?” Naruto sighs theatrically, clutching his hands to his chest. “It’s hard. Those dark, mysterious eyes just smolder as he yells obscenities at me. And those lips, curled into a perfect snarl.”

The table laughs, Sakura rolling her eyes and returning to her lunch. Naruto pushes away her lecture as best he can. He likes Sasuke, and it’ll be fine. He won’t screw it up.

He isn’t going to let himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahaha we're going to pretend it hasn't been a month


End file.
